Gods Not My Own
by AKAAkira
Summary: He had wanted an uneventful day, yet Percy suddenly found himself thrust into a world just as dangerous as the one he had just left. Even here, Percy finds that it's not those with power, but the everyday citizens, who pave the way into a better future.
1. Prologue

**Summary**: For once he had wanted an uneventful week, yet Percy and his girlfriend Annabeth suddenly found themselves in a world just as dangerous as the one they just left. Even here, in a powerful setting out of a fantasy book, Percy finds that it's not those with authority and power, but the everyday citizens, who pave the way into a better future.

Takes place after _The Last Olympian_.

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan and Mabinogi belongs to Nexon. I own absolutely nothing in relation to either works, except for the idea to mesh them together.**

_**A/N Prologue. Possibly a bad format, but it won't have too much to do with the main story – provides a bit of background though, it's up to you to proceed to the main story or to read it.**_

_**Special thanks to ****CodeLyokoIsTheBest for the Beta work!**_

Prologue

"_They made contact."_

_The words that the beautiful, white-haired girl spoke traveled across the traditional Japanese room to the equally stunning, but black-haired woman lying on an extravagant couch with her legs crossed. While the girl was a picture of courtesy and respect, her hands held in front, near a peculiar pendant wrapped around her waist, the woman took the more casual approach in her posture, almost as if saying that she had all the time in the world and did not reject wasting it entirely. Today the woman chose a long white dress that hugged her figure and was split at the sides of the legs from the bottom to about midway up her thigh, in addition to red butterflies embroidered around where the knee would be should the woman be standing. It was chosen on purpose to contrast with her junior's very similar, albeit darker, dress. Unlike the younger girl's outfit, the woman wore fingerless wool gloves that extended to her elbows and refrained from wearing socks, again in contrast to the girl's bare arms and stockings covering the majority of her legs._

"_It was several hours ago." Ordinarily, the girl's soft voice was a pure sound of calm, the scent of cozy meadows; or at other times, a delighted ring, like the winds dancing past a green forest; with firm hints of determination, the soil to the blooming flowers pushing for the sky. Usually, the girl's soft voice wouldn't have such raw seriousness, the feelings of a wary white deer – but this likely qualified as an unusual situation. "I know for sure that Mr. Reed became aware and contacted the one you call Crayak. I 'heard' them discuss – more accurately, I heard Mr. Reed explain – the cause, the purpose, and the conditions of their alliance. I doubt that Crayak had much say in the matter."_

_Her senior counterpart – counterpart only by duty, as the woman's powers far surpassed the young girl's – took several seconds before speaking. "And what of the others…?"_

"_For now, only Crayak was approached. But, as you have expected, Mr. Reed still has other people in mind to…persuade."_

"_Hm."_

"_So it is coming soon. We already had more time to prepare than we had any right to have…but I still can't help but wish we had more."_

"_Same here. But sooner or later, our operation had to become more subtle. I will contact the others myself. Thank you for your report."_

_The woman turned back to the pipe held carefully in her hand, taking a deep breath through it before exhaling a respectably lengthy cloud. The lack of attention was meant as a clear sign of dismissal. But the girl didn't move. For a moment her pretty face showed nothing but sheer discomfort, as if wondering whether or not what she was doing the right thing, but evidently the girl decided to stay, just a bit more at least._

_Her hesitant decision was rewarded two seconds later when the woman turned back to her. "My sincerest apologies. The coming events affect me as well. I can offer no other reasonable explanation than that for failing to see your other purpose."_

"_It's all right." The girl's relief was evident in both her tone and the way she relaxed slightly when she was taut only a moment ago. "You've explained the why before."_

"_I have. And if I remember correctly, you should also know of the principles of an equal price. But before I get to that, I must ask you one more time if this is what you truly want, what no one but I can fulfill. What of your own mistress? Your own heroes?"_

"_Lady Morrighan…does not yet know, of neither the surge of power nor about our discussions. No doubt she will be unhappy with me when she learns of either. However, she is far too busy at the moment, which is why I drew the matter into my own hands, and wish to entrust it to yours."_

"_You know of my tendency to pass it to anyone else capable."_

"_Knowing you, I'm sure you'll only choose someone who _will_ act."_

"_Fair answer. I leave the notification of the elegant crow to you…and I hope you realize what the price will be."_

"_I do. And…" Here the girl paused for the slightest fraction of a second. She did not realize herself, but there was a single tear trickling down her left eye. Silently, it fell off her smooth face and landed softly on her shoulder. She pushed onward. "And I'm willing to pay it."_

"_In that case, my dear," and at this the Dimensional Witch smiled as if she had made a funny joke, before stating:_

"_Consider your wish granted."_


	2. My Sentence Is Going to be Long

_**A/N Again, special thanks to **_**CodeLyokoIsTheBest_ for the editing work!_**

_**Now for my babblings. ^^**_

_**It was only **_**after**_** I came up with this that I realized that Rick Riordan came out with another series…in any case, this fiction has been banished to the category of parallel universe. One that went through the first five books but not the second one.**_

_**Do you like my new Chapter Name layout? It was supposed to mimic the way a manga sometimes does it. If you have an opinion, you know where to click! (Hint: Bottom of page.)**_

_**May as well mention this here…I never wrote romance before. Not direct ones, anyways. So…uh…what do you think?**_

****Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan and Mabinogi belongs to Nexon. I own absolutely nothing in relation to either works, except for the idea to mesh them together.****__

* * *

><p>I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up.<p>

I mean, I know Zeus forbid the other gods from contacting their kids directly even when said kid was about to attempt stupidly dangerous things, like attacking a hungry Cyclops, or challenging the lord of the Titans, or asking out the Girl I Love, all of which _I_'ve barely managed to get out of alive. And I also knew that Zeus forbid the other gods from contacting their kids especially when the kid was not in any danger at all, which is totally bogus.

Then again, none of the gods had really paid attention to that rule.

I had to remind myself that Dad was probably busy doing all his godly businesses. I bet his schedule was as full as a lake on a rainy day. He probably had appointments with local river gods, plus he still had to rebuild the undersea castle that was damaged in the last war. He might even have found another woman, maybe I'll even get a sib – okay, I don't think I really want to dwell on that. Summary, Dad was busy, he can't check up on me so frequently, despite any of my whining.

But, it _has_ been a year…

I groaned. It was way past the time for curfew. I needed to go soon.

Yet I still couldn't leave…

So I just sat there for a couple more minutes, toying with the river water, arguing with myself '_He loves me, he loves me not_' which sounded really weird even in my head. I sat there with no knowledge of the time and for all I knew my birthday already might be done and over with and Dad will never come. I was torturing myself with the possible fact that I might have wasted my time.

It was only then that I remembered Chiron had given me a watch today.

Chiron, always the practical one. The watch he had given me was apparently "specially constructed for my personal use". I could deal with less formal words, but I still had to admire at the beauty on my wrist. It was all Stygian iron, and could've been a Rolex for all I knew, with all the metal links that was interwoven intricately like spider webs ("Ew," Annabeth had shuddered earlier when I used the metaphor – foil – onomatopoeia – I blame my English teacher) and the majestic rim circling the digital face. It could've been, except of course for the digital face. And the Stygian iron. And the fact that this thing could go under a steamroller with a dragon breathing fire on it at the same time and still come up spotless and shiny as a mirror.

Right. The time. I looked at the face.

00:00:05.

Today – yesterday – was officially the worst birthday ever.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One – <strong>

_I Purposely-on-Accident Cheated on my Girlfriend_

* * *

><p>I stared at my watch dejectedly for two seconds before its face told me to move.<p>

No, it did not suddenly grow a mouth and say "Hey Percy, buddy, mind scooting over three feet?"

It was more accurate to say, what I saw reflected off of its face told me I _should_ move.

I managed to roll away –

Just as a sword _thunk_ed into the riverbank!

My assailant wrenched it out of the ground and attempted a side slash – which never happened because I leaped in and grabbed the hilt. In less than a second of twisting the sword was torn out and I attempted a down slash – but my opponent managed to jump back and draw her knife.

Then she leapt in close again, which was bad because she had a knife and I had a sword.

Distance weapons really only work at a distance.

So I leapt back just before she landed and swung twice more – both dodged – then she dived in – I jumped back again – then I tried to stab her with the point – but she managed to parry it with a blade as short as her _knife_! I overextended, lost a lot of grip and, with barely a tap, the sword was knocked out of my hands.

Though she didn't know I _let_ her knock it out of my hands. And just as I expected, she capitalized quickly, trying for a thrust.

I stepped back and watched in amusement as she realized she stepped on water.

Really, the strongest feeling I had at the point was pure hilarity, as if I had just lobbed a water balloon on someone's head. But, staring at the scene in front of me, I saw a girl desperately flailing her limbs, her eyes promising murder and streaming curses in half-English half-Ancient Greek. In other words, I found the view completely beautiful.

Then I heard that spectacular _splash_!

When her face surfaced, I laughed. I took her hand, dragged her with me, and pulled her up easily into a sitting position beside me as I stepped off the water and flopped down right beside her. "What's that, twenty to twenty-seven for me?"

"Shut it, Seaweed Brain."

"You're a bit on the stingy side today." I smiled and teased, "I'm sure I'm not _that_ bad of a kisser…"

Annabeth gave me the sweet smile that promised me Judgement Day was coming. "Or it could be because my _boyfriend_ went missing for several _hours_, I was searching for _three_, and Chiron was ready to declare a _national emergency_ last time I checked."

Oops.

"Uh, sorry about that."

"You can go apologize to Chiron instead," she snapped.

I gave a sheepish grin. "Gotcha. One dish full of apologies for the Big House residents later." And after a thought: "With a side of 'dry daughter of Athena'."

"Uh, what –"

I swooped in and caught her right in the mouth. I felt her tense a little – but that was probably surprise, the moment passed and she relaxed for two seconds before I parted slightly and whispered, "I told you I'm not that bad."

Annabeth seemed irked enough to draw back and glare at me, but I knew she wasn't really mad anymore, so I grinned, at which Annabeth rolled her eyes. Then she seemed to remember what I implied to do and glanced down. Sure enough where moments before she was sopping wet, now her clothes could've come straight from a dryer. Even the ground she was sitting on lacked its previous dampness. She reached out with a finger and gently brushed it, almost like her clothes were surreal. Then she glanced up and saw the blob of water held in my hands.

I knew she was impressed. I was with her long enough to know that though her face was kept in control her head tilted just slightly to my left, as if she was curious how I did it.

Sure enough: "How –"

"Did I do it? Just sucked the river water straight out." I displayed the ball of said water spinning on my index like a basketball.

"When –"

"Did I get this controlled? I've been practicing, remember?" I added to the effect by flattening it and flipping it like a coin.

"Stop –"

"Finishing your sentences for you or else you'll smite me with my own sword? I got something pretty close." And with that, the water was dumped straight on my head.

Annabeth glared again; but then that second was over and she outright laughed. I didn't get wet, but she didn't seem to care.

What a night! The forest beside the camp was rarely this accommodating. (Maybe it was the lack of giant scorpions and the equally dangerous fellow campers.) I could still taste the blueberry muffins we had earlier, but more overwhelming and refreshing was the scent of pine and moss that floated in the air. There were no clouds in the sky, and the space above us was clear of treetops, giving us a perfect view of the constellations. And to top it off – her voice twinkled prettily like the stars. So of course, I joined her.

That is, until Annabeth said "Psych!" and jabbed me hard at my side, which made me double over, wheezing. Dang, I didn't see that one coming.

"That was a dirty trick," I gasped, "if you wanted another duel you could've arranged one."

"Well, I'm arranging one right now, and I'm not stopping for you." And with just a slight tap of her knife to near my heart – it wasn't even unsheathed! That's just insulting! – she declared, "Twenty-_one_ to twenty-seven."

Before I could consider a comeback she kissed me back. Then she drew back, smirked a bit, and asked: "How was your first day at age seventeen?"

"Well, I nearly died when Tyson hugged me."

"I'm sure he wasn't meaning to turn you into your own birthday pancake."

I grinned, and straightened a bit. "Remember when Clarisse crashed the party?"

"Seeing as you trapped her in a bubble and left her dangling outside, I'm not sure how that matters."

"Then there's Travis and Connor…"

"How nice of them to pie themselves in the face."

"That only happened because _you_ decided Rachel's pies worked better as discuses."

"In my defence, they weren't really to my taste…"

I almost didn't hear that, I was concentrating so hard on the ball of water behind my girlfriend's head. "Wasn't it you who said it's the effort that should count?"

"When did I ever say _that_?"

"When you tried to feed me your cake."

"They weren't _that_…You got me there. Go on."

"Chiron gave me this watch."

"Was it even useful?"

"Only by telling me Dad never showed up."

Annabeth hesitated; too late, I realized I let too much bitterness into my words.

"He was supposed to see you today?"

"_Yesterday_," I corrected; and suddenly I was _mad_. "It's been a year, remember? The last time I saw him was on my _last_ birthday, and you know how _that_ party went with having to fend off Kronos at the same time. A full _year_ went by, and looks like he didn't have _time_ for me when I'm not the hero of the day."

"I'm sure he didn't know you thought that way."

"I don't really care."

Silence. Then, "When did you…I mean, are you sure he was going to come see you? You didn't just ask on a prayer, did you?"

"I'm pretty sure if the strawberry punch turned ocean blue, that counts as a yes from the god of the sea."

Annabeth smiled for a moment. "So that was the story behind that one. I thought your mom might have come over…"

"She was busy working on a story with Paul, remember?"

"So you told me, which is why I was curious about the punch."

I smiled for about half a second. Then I flopped backwards, sighing.

And accidentally dropped the ball of water, splashing Annabeth with cold water again.

"Oops!" I exclaimed, at the same time Annabeth yelled "Ah!"

"Sorry!" was spoken at the same time as "What the –!"

"I got it!" happened to coincide with "I'll get you for that!"

"Don't!" I pleaded just before I drew every miniscule drop of vapour from Annabeth's clothes, letting it flow into my hands again and quickly building it up from marble-sized to a water basketball that will never bounce.

Poor basketball.

That's when I glanced up and realized that maybe I should be more concerned about myself. It's almost funny how I could deal with her knife laughingly, and now when she's shooting daggers at me I totally quailed.

Just when she opened her mouth threateningly – "Please don't slice me into little pieces and stuff me into a plastic bag and then toss it into your trash can and set it on fire!"

Wow. Did I just say that?

According to Annabeth's slight snickering and head-shaking I _did_ just say that. But I seemed to have averted the main danger.

Then she said, "I'll keep that idea in mind."

Drat.

But she didn't jab me in the side again so I let out a small sigh. Then again, maybe she was kidding around to begin with. Regardless I placed my arm strictly at my side.

"Uh…seeing as you aren't going to slice me into little pieces, et cetera…" Dang, now what do I say? I glanced at my hand. "…Wanna play water basketball?" Ugh. Stupid, stupid.

Annabeth touched the water basketball and then flung it to the side. She failed miserably at it, because I let out the water control too early and her hand ended up going through the water. She wiped off her hand on her sweater, grabbed my hand and hoisted me up. "Percy, it's getting late. I'd think it's smarter to play a game called 'Avoid the Harpies' instead."

I grinned. "You mean, of course, 'Be the First One to Sneak Back into Our Respective Cabins before the Harpies Find Us and Devour Us'."

Annabeth shrugged. "Too long. But you got the meaning clear."

"Then on three…"

"Two…"

"One…"

"Go," both of us agreed, and we dashed into the woods, away from the river, and totally disregarding the Sneaking bit.

And I ended the race prematurely when I crashed into someone hidden in the darkness, inadvertently locking lips with the person before we fell with me on top.

* * *

><p>When I realized what just happened, my first thought was, <em>'Oh Zeus I hope she's female.'<em>

Then I thought about Annabeth's wrath, and my second thought was, _'Oh Zeus I hope he's male.'_

Then I thought over that comment again, and thought, _'Oh Zeus I hope it's just a bear.'_

And _then_ I remembered there was no bear in the forest. _'Zeus, just kill me now.'_

I finally got off her – _'Oh no, it's a _female_' – _she happened to be none other than Rachel Elizabeth Dare, a girl friend and definitely the most likely one to invoke Annabeth's jealo –

A quick look at Annabeth's face told me fury was a better word.

In truth, though, it was a mix of jealousy, fury, amusement, and uncertainty, not necessarily ordered greatest to least. Me, I was torn between laughing out loud and apologizing profusely. What sound I tried to make came out like a strangled squeak, and suddenly Annabeth seemed irritated. Now I wished I could go back in time. Ares, Polyphemus, Atlas, Luke, Kronos – _any_ of them I was now willing and eager to face.

And then I suddenly thought – _We've been only dating for a year. I am NOT going to end it like this._

Problem is, as soon as I opened my mouth another squeak came out.

I cleared my throat and tried again. "S…sorry?"

"Percy –"

"I know this looks bad, but this is really not –"

"Um –"

"– _told_ you I wasn't such a bad kisser –"

"Percy –"

"– me the pain, you're dumping me aren't you –"

"Percy –"

"– conclusions! What makes you think –?"

"_Percy!_"

"_What?_"

"_Look!_"

And when I spun around that totally knocked the blabbering out of me.

Rachel was full-Oracle mode. Green mist, check. Creepy voice, check. Stupid prophecy, coming in as I speak.

_Stride into the silent stream of souls,_

_To battle against monster and animal dolls_

_Accompanied by two new lazy friends_

_Into the prison's unstable and clever end._

_Glimpse the wing of the evil crown,_

_All to help a goddess not your own._

And just like that, Rachel collapsed.

I found my voice first.

"What the heck?"

"I'm sorry, Percy, but that's all I can help you with."

I whipped around.

I was sorely disappointed.

Sandy hair. Blue eyes. Hardened, unusually determined face. A white T-shirt, but with two leather armguards stretching from his knuckles to above his shoulder. He still had his blue jeans, but they were padded at the knee. And sandals. If there were such things as combat sandals, he had them. They looked surprisingly, and wickedly, dangerous with its green and black stripes and seemed dense enough to take out Chuck Norris with a kick.

The defining details. Golden bow and multiple golden arrows in a quiver, both slung over his back by a cord that ran diagonal across his torso, showing tight-packed muscles that I never noticed before.

Definitely not Dad. And he was a few years older than the last time I've seen him. But this person in front of me was unmistakably the god of sun, Apollo.

"What –"

"Let me make this short. You're needed somewhere, but not here. I can transport you there. Are you ready yet?"

"Wait, _what_?" Annabeth yelled.

At the same time, I blurted out, "What about your car?"

Both looked at me until I added, "Who's driving it?"

"It's on autopilot!" Apollo was definitely a bit on the anxious side today. When I first met him, he was making terrible haikus and flirting with several girls at once. Not now. He was serious enough to be pronouncing a death sentence.

I hope that was not a bad sign.

"Look, Percy, I'm already breaking multiple of Zeus's orders just coming here today! I was only able to sneak out because Zeus was too preoccupied holding Poseidon and Athena back. He could be here any second!"

"Wait, Dad? He wanted to come –?"

"I said, he could be here _any second_!" Apollo looked at me directly in the eyes. I was struck by just how solemn, how _fierce_, his expression was at that moment. "Pay attention, Percy Jackson. This is bigger than just you. This is bigger than what any one world can hold."

What was _that_ supposed to mean?

"Ready or not," Apollo said, raising his hand at me.

"Wait, what? I'm not reeeaaaaaaaaaaaaa –"

I was being dragged! I glanced behind, and saw what appeared to be a blurry hole sucking me and Annabeth up.

"Percy!" she cried as I went in first.

Darkness. It was darkness everywhere, and I couldn't penetrate it with my eyes. I was alone, and falling, falling really fast.

My second day as a seventeen-year-old and I'm already hating it.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter Two will be up...not very soon. I'll try to get it done quickly, but even with summer vacation, meh, dunno.<strong>_

_**Please remember to leave a review!**_


	3. It's All a Blanc

_**A/N Ugh…I really should have put the meeting with Nao on the first chapter. Then the last chapter would be longer and this one wouldn't be so long.**_

_**This fiction will start off loosely based on G1, but there will be noticeable differences and a complete derailment around chapter five or six.**_

_**It was over one year ago that I finished my last fic…my rate's not looking too good.**_

_**Hmm…my Beta Reader seems to have gone MIA.**_

_**As always, enjoy.**_

****Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan and Mabinogi belongs to Nexon. I own absolutely nothing in relation to either works, except for the idea to mesh them together.****

* * *

><p>Dark finally gave way to light.<p>

It wasn't a gradual effect. One moment everything was pitch black, the next I was almost blinded by the sharpness of the white, like someone turned on a switch to a giant blank room. Except, there was no giant switch, and I wasn't in a room.

As I was pondering this, suddenly I touched down. Softly, too. It didn't make sense – I've been falling way too long for a landing to not jar my knees. And besides which, wasn't I falling _head_first?

A moment later, Annabeth appeared beside me. Don't ask me how; I didn't see it happen.

"Where did Apollo learn to do that?" she muttered. "And where are we?"

I took a look around. It was still all white now, even the sky. We were standing on a sort of weirdly-shaped platform that reminded me a bit of Olympus's throne room, but only in how majestic it seemed. This one had the design of some kind of knot on it. Two owls were flying overhead, hooting occasionally – did Athena have something to do with this? I could also hear the constant whisper of a wind.

Cautiously Annabeth and I ended up back to back, the way people do in movies when they're surrounded or if they don't know what's about to happen. I scanned my one-eighty degrees, seeing nothing but white sky and, if it was possible, even whiter structure.

Then someone cleared her throat behind me. It wasn't my girlfriend.

"Ah!" Twisting around, Riptide erupted from its normal state and I held it out as I skidded away. My peripheral vision confirmed Annabeth was right beside me in a similar stance, so I focused back to the threat.

And then my jaw dropped open.

Because standing right in front of me, showing mild interest and fond affection, was a girl a little older than Annabeth, sporting an elegant length of white hair and a beautiful long black dress that showed a little more figure than I was comfortable with, with some kind of charm wrapped around her middle.

And she is _the _hottest babe I've ever seen in my life.

If she could hear that thought Annabeth is _so_ going to kill me.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two – <strong>

_I Hustle a Snowman for its Gold Earring_

* * *

><p>In the ten seconds it took for me to shake that daze off by the inevitable slapping of my face, blue lost all rights and privileges as my favourite colour. Now it's a two-way tie between white and black.<p>

And they were both a magnificent sight.

The only things I've seen with white hair are comic book characters, one or two monsters, and that old lady from Grade Five who kept whacking my behind with her cane, so I never really got to see it in such a brilliant light. This girl's locks were graceful, they were lustrous, and they shined like clouds or vanilla ice cream or the down of an angel's wing. They captivated my eyes, like a slow-motion movie of smoothly breezing white, more beautiful and more _natural_ than those hair shampoo commercials that never actually used the products they were advertising – and I felt I could do this for an eternity. If I could live forever, I _would_ do this for an eternity.

But the black dress was vying for just as much space in my mind. From the bottom that was really just cozy flaps partially hiding her pale slender legs to the charm wrapped around her waist to the torso area (which I had enough dignity to only skim through) and finally to the way it broke off by her bare neck, that was all a gorgeous work of art. A masterpiece of tailoring, a first place finisher in the Olympics of tailoring. It was the kind of clothes that very few people in the world should have skills to make.

I voiced my mind. "That's a nice dress."

That's what earned me the slap from the daughter of Athena. "Focus!"

"Ow!"

Annabeth directed her knife back at the white-haired girl. "Who are you?"

The girl smiled. "My name is Nao Mariota Pryderi," she chirped, and then took a small formal bow. "Pleased to meet you!"

She seemed like a nice girl. I guess I could say hello, introduce myself, and ask what she was doing here, but remembering my little scene with Rachel, instead I chose to interject one overly passive comment: "That's a cute name."

I learned three things: Annabeth didn't think that comment was passive, Annabeth didn't dare risk letting go of her knife, and for supposedly invincible shins, oh _ow_, her kick hurt.

"A-are you okay?" The girl – Nao – now turned flustered and concerned.

"Yes," Annabeth snapped, "and what do you want?"

Nao looked uncertainly at me for a moment, but decided to indulge Annabeth. "I am a guide for people brought into the Soul Stream from other worlds," she said proudly. "I welcome you to Erinn!"

'_Oh!'_

"Erinn?" Annabeth asked dubiously.

"Annabeth, the first line! '_Stride into the silent stream of souls_' –"

"Which is information you don't need to give!" Annabeth hissed.

Well. That's a good point. I took a more thorough analysis of Nao. She doesn't look like she has any weapons, hidden or not, but I've had my fair share of females-turning-into-monsters. Though Nao did seem too pretty for that…

On another note, Annabeth keeps making the rookie mistake of taking her eyes off a potential enemy. Usually she wouldn't be that unfocused, except, as if the ghostly feeling on my lips weren't enough of a reminder, she thinks I just _cheated on her_. Purposely by accident. She keeps giving meaningful glares at me, as if she wants me to…what? Never again have any contact with a person of the opposite gender?

For now though, I faked being ignorant on her pointed stares, giving her a face that said "Huh?" Well, I hoped it said that, and not something like "Watch this! I'm going to hit on her!"

Since I'm faking not knowing what she's trying to tell me, I introduced ourselves. "Uh...hi." Cue a little wave that made me feel stupid, so I put it down quickly. "I'm, uh, Percy, and this is my girlfriend, Annabeth."

Her glare became a little less pointed, which was a welcome relief, so I figured I was safe for the next question. "What kind of a place is Erinn?"

For having a knife still pointed at her, Nao seemed totally at ease. Maybe that should've brought up warning signs, but she began explaining, and that thought was driven from mind. "Erinn is a place to live your life to the fullest. There are many kinds of occupations in this world, including carpenters, cooks, blacksmiths, animal tamers, potion makers, healers, explorers, hunters and dungeoneers. It is a peaceful place, with lots of different environments, from the aesthetic towns in the continent of Uladh to the wilder beauties of the continent of Iria. And –" here Nao straightened proudly – "with the blessing of my goddess Morrighan, otherworlders may choose to rebirth any time they are older than twenty, letting them experience their lives over and over again."

Over…and _over again? _"No way!"

"Impossible." Annabeth said in that impassive tone of hers. "No way someone's this generous."

"It's not like Zeus hasn't given immortality to heroes," I pointed out.

"He doesn't offer it to almost _everyone_ who comes along."

"They might not have that many visitors," I suggested, though I turned back to glance at Nao. "Right?"

Nao beamed. "Actually, we get a lot of visitors each year."

"Oh." _'Huh…wonder why…'_

The stupid side of my brain thought, _'Maybe because they were attracted to Nao?'_

'Shut up. How would they know her before they came here anyways?'

'…_Advertisements for Erinn?'_

Nao giggled.

"There aren't any other conditions, are there?" Annabeth suspiciously asked.

"No! Any otherworlders who turn twenty may choose to rebirth at anytime after that, though –"

"I _knew_ there was a catch."

"Though people who have contributed to this world may choose to rebirth earlier," Nao finished, grinning.

"Oh."

I covered up her interruption quickly, moving on to, "Why did Annabeth and I come here? Aren't we here to help someone?"

Nao's smile faded a little bit. "Yes," she admitted, "not everything is as it should be. You see, there is a race called the Fomors living in Erinn, and for many centuries, they have been disrupting the otherwise peaceful life of our residents."

She actually walked to the edge of the platform we were on, and as my eyes followed her, I had to admit that made me a little nervous. I don't know where we were, but I'm sure we're up _really_ high.

Nao brushed some of the hair that was in her face away, letting it float brilliantly in the wind, before she continued, "The Fomors, led by their god Cichol, had been enemies of the people of Erinn from the beginning, at times even coming to outright war." She peered over to the scene below, as if she can actually see the land of Erinn and what was going on there, though I could still see nothing but white. "When I was first born, this place had been so much quieter, so much more _tranquil_, and today…there are battles daily."

"So we just have to beat this god and everything would be fine again?" I asked.

"That would make sense," Annabeth muttered, quietly. "_'Evil crown'_ and _'Goddess not your own'_ from the prophecy could refer to the two entities Cichol and Morrighan."

Nao smiled at her, and I felt actual surprise when Annabeth didn't brandish her knife again. "Not quite. Fomors are dangerous, but they're not something the average adventurer can't handle. What I had in mind for you involved some specialty work, something to better suit your strength and wisdom, and something no one else can do."

"_You_ asked for us?" Annabeth exclaimed.

At the same time: "Specialty work?" I asked. It brought into my mind an image of Beckendorf calibrating his bronze dragon, or my mother editing her novel, and for some reason, the book "How to Pick Up Girls in Five Syllables or Less that I was planning to give to Nico..

Nao flushed, though I don't know why. "Yes, I am the one who asked for help, though I didn't specify who. As for what you need to do…" She pulled out a letter from nowhere, and I mean _nowhere_, because there were no pockets I could see on her dress or stockings…and no, she didn't seem like a person to put stuff in more, um, _unconventional_ storage spaces. She must've noticed my expression because she flushed again. "Give this to Chief Duncan of Tir Chonaill, a small town that you'll go to soon. He can show you around the town and explain how things work in the village, if you wish to know."

"Umm…okay." Annabeth grabbed the letter, tucking it into a pocket of her jeans.

"Is there anything else you wanted to ask?" Nao smiled pleasantly.

The first thing that came to my mind: "What's your story?"

All of a sudden I freaked. I felt like a rabbit under the towering figure of a lion, and my spine shivered, and I actually staggered for a second. I shot a quick glance at my left, tightening my reassuring grip on Riptide. Annabeth simply looked straight forward.

A giggle escaped from Nao. "Something about me? Well…"

She reached her hand up, and suddenly one of the owls alighted on her wrist, fluttering its wings for a moment before closing them and settling down. Nao brought her hand back down and petted the barn owl. "This is my owl, Petrock," she explained. "He's been with me for many years, almost since I started working for my Lady Morrighan. He's usually the one I send down to check up on people having a little difficulty settling in in Erinn." Petrock – weird enough name – took off again and Nao continued, "Most of the owls you'll see down on Erinn work as messengers, carrying Owl Scrolls for adventurers."

Annabeth scowled. "Messengers?"

Being the daughter of Athena and all, I guess she might get angry about the fact they were working under humans, but Nao nodded in an assuring manner. "They are intelligent, they are fast, and most importantly, they don't mind. And –" she said this quickly, because Annabeth tried to interrupt – "it's not very different from what demigods call Iris-messages. Both Iris and the owls are paid, and both take their jobs only when they are free and willing."

I'm not sure if there's a good argument against that, but Annabeth looked like she was about to try, so I moved on. "What's Owl Scrolls?" Annabeth gave me another of those looks. Was she angry at me? Oh, wait, _duh_.

"They are the scrolls carried by the owls contain several types of messages such as job requests, quests, or notices. You could just be hanging out, doing nothing, and an owl would suddenly appear and drop a scroll on your head. I am pretty sure you will receive your share of scrolls, too."

"Oh. Cool."

"Anything else?" Nao smiled again.

"Um, don't think so…" I glanced at my girlfriend, but she looked away like she liked the sky better than me. Right now, she probably did. "I think we're ready to go."

"Then, I have one last thing to ask you about." Nao straightened to her full height, eyes suddenly shining, and asked excitedly in voice at least five years younger, "What do you think about gifts?"

…

"Excuse me?" That was Annabeth's stunned voice.

Nao immediately looked mortified. "Oh I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to pry!"

"No," I quickly replied, "we were just surprised." '_And_,' I thought to myself, '_she's definitely a goddess. It must be all goddess' trait to have that age-changing mind-screwing mentality…_' "We _love_ giving and getting gifts. Like, isn't that the reason Christmas rules with an iron fist?" I hope I didn't sound sarcastic.

Nao beamed again. "Really? I looooove to exchange gifts with others, too!" She gave a little cough and shyly elaborated, "I can tell from the gift how the other person really thinks of me."

"That's great," I said, grinning. "What do you usually get?"

"Mostly rare dresses. It's astounding how many adventurers can get! Sometimes I feel a little guilty because I have more than one set of most dresses." Nao sighed again, but then she (somewhat mischievously?) asked me, "What do _you_ usually get for presents?"

"There isn't anything particular. New shields, movies, birthday cakes, and once even my hellhound's dog doo. The only thing in common is that everything is connected to blue." I frowned. "Even the dog doo."

Nao laughed, though she tried to cover it. "Everything you receive has to be blue? Oh, that's too bad. My gift won't be acceptable, then?"

"What? No, it's fine," I said quickly, "I'd be happy with anything you give me."

I heard a small hiss behind me and pointedly decided to ignore it.

"That's great! In that case –" and at that point two _somethings_ fell out of the sky straight into her waiting hands, and she eagerly pushed them towards us. "One for both of you! I hope you'll like it!"

Annabeth took hers quickly, checking it out while I was still fumbling to see what it really was. Her voice changed from possibly stony to impressed. "Wow. Are these hand-made?"

And then I finally got to look at it proper. It was one of those belt pouches, the one that can strap around your waist and rested around the hips. This one was actually a bit smaller than the ones I had seen before, being a little thin and short, but more importantly, by the way it was designed it actually allowed for mobility. It had several pockets and a big one that could fit anything the size of ambrosia crackers and nectar vials and ziplocked change and bandages to pepper spray and small daggers, if necessary. I even liked how it looked, being almost completely black except for the white buttons and one white horizontal line that ran along the lower part of the bag, beneath the multiple pockets and pouches, as well as a symbol on the centre that – I did a double take to make sure – exactly matched the insignia we were standing on right now.

All in all, a really cool, useful present. Much better than I would have expected.

"Thank you, Nao," I told her excitedly, almost as giddy as a five-year old, but also sincerely. "I wish we brought something to give you in return."

Nao only smiled at Annabeth (who was already strapping it on and marveling at its comfort) and I. For a moment our eyes met each other, and something jolted through before I blinked and she backed off apologetically.

I think she was thinking, _'My present is _you_.'_

From the abnormal chill right behind me, I could tell my love life just tripped into a volcano again.

But then Nao smiled in that radiant way of hers. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

Annabeth had the courtesy to say, "Nice to meet you too," before I thought up of it.

"On that note, I wish you luck!"

And with that comment, Nao concentrated, and _floated_. The time it took for my eyes to bulge out at that was enough to encase my vision with light, sending me back to that _lovely_ falling feeling.

* * *

><p>So this time I turned up in some kinda grassy meadow, with a forest surrounding it. It was hard to tell where this place is, but I'm sure we're in Erinn now. The wind was blowing a little more softly here than in the Soul Stream, but with all the trees and grass the noise it was making was way louder. At this point I'd bet even Mrs. O' Leary would be able to sneak up on me without trying.<p>

Then I realized Annabeth wasn't here.

Well, no sooner had I thought that did something crash into my shoulder, and while it didn't hurt, it was very uncomfortable a few seconds later when I was sprawled on the ground and Annabeth was practically sitting on me.

"Sorry," she said, not sounding very sorry at all. "I missed."

"Missed?" was my reply, except with the ground muffling me I think I, um, implied that she went to the bathroom. Whoops.

"You think?" she snapped. I think she was about to start a rant, but then I raised my head and clarified. "I was up on a tree scouting," she explained curtly and coldly, which actually pained me.

"Look…Annabeth, I'm really sorry about Rachel. It was a complete accident. I promise I won't go willingly kissing anyone else again."

That one came out much better than I had hoped, but I felt a foot cuff my head when I finished, which reminded me of the time her shoes used my face as a step for rock climbing. I definitely preferred that now.

"That wasn't your fault," Annabeth somewhat grudgingly murmured, "so I can forgive you this time." Then her voice hardened. "And the other girl?"

Oh, crud. She really thought I had it for Nao. Truthfully, I did, for the first forty seconds after meeting her, but after I gained a somewhat resistance against her beauty, I found I really did see her only as a – well, a friend, I suppose, though I hadn't known her for long. But how do I convey that to Annabeth?

"You were ogling her."

Okay, this I had to defend. "I was _not_!"

"You were staring at her body with more attention than a hungry cat watching a mouse."

That was a weird foil. Or maybe it was an allegory? "I was…just staring at her dress!"

"And why exactly were you paying attention to a dress?"

Now, I could've said "It was almost perfectly made, you have to agree on that" or "We should've hired the guy who made it for Mom's wedding", but in my attempt to say something derogatory my stupid mouth said out loud the worst possible answer: "Whoever made it messed up on the top, it was so tight her chest…" And only then did I clamp my mouth shut.

This is probably where I should deviate to mention that last Christmas, Rachel had gotten a full art kit for Annabeth. A full _girl_'s art kit, including a set of bright pink permanent markers, stencils of hearts, flowers, rainbows, and the Barbie logo, and most potent of all – _nail stickers_. This should usually have not been a problem, except Annabeth actually opted to keep most of it in her small pouch of supplies, _all_ the time. When I asked why, I was returned a sweet smile that looked too much like an expression of sadistic enjoyment. The next morning I had shown up to the stables not knowing what was so funny until Blackjack finally broke down and told me I had pink bunnies in permanent marker drawn on my cheeks.

So at the first feeling of something cold touching the back of my neck, I promptly discarded all pride as a man. I shrieked, "OHMYLORDZEUSSAVEME! _PINKBUNNIES_!"

And that's when the most unexpected, yet the most welcomed, thing occurred.

"Get a room!" a young voice snapped.

Okay, maybe not that welcome.

I managed to tilt one eye at the voice, which was coming from my right, and saw a boy with his head completely covered in a metal helmet with a metal dragon like the cold, hard, immobile and evil twin of Mushu on top, in addition to a green scarf, white sweater, and green pants. And he was probably eight years old?

"What?" I managed in pained tones.

Apparently that's all the hint the kid needed to blow up, because what came out next was "Do not give me that, young man! You two may have been a special case, but keep your bonding session somewhere else, stop breeding like rabbits, and get married in a place someone actually cares!"

As red-faced as I was, there was one good thing that came out of it: Annabeth immediately got off of me, leaving me to stand. She didn't look at me, though that was probably because she was just as mortified as I was at the deceivingly innocent kid.

And it was definitely disturbing. (He didn't even mention marriage before, uh,mentioning the rabbits, unlike a good little boy.) "Aren't you a little young to be talking about Health class?" I asked, trying to keep the embarrassment of actually asking that to a kid out of my voice.

"Not Health class," the boy sighed, "soap operas. Avon had such masterpieces in the past twenty years, but these years, Lanier and Marlowe are ruining their predecessors' work! They can't come up with anything original – just the other day –" and here he turned at us, like we were the embodiments of bad authors and I could imagine his eyes blazing like Ares' – "their production _Affairs in the Perilous Ruins _had two overused instances of miscarriage breakdown, five extra instances of infidelity, and one overly disgusting section reflecting on the differences between human and gnoll anatomy! Shamefully uncreative, I say!"

"Gnolls?" I looked at Annabeth questioningly, though for some reason she was as green as a leaf that was trying to vomit. Then the _anatomy_ comment hit. "Right. Soap operas. Good to know what cleans the body scars the mind."

The kid managed out a small laugh. "And good to know your brain exists, contrary to my initial opinion. Although I must suppose the lass here, being the daughter of the wisdom goddess, will never bother with a retarded child."

If I didn't notice anything before, I did now. The kid was talking way more formal than an eight year old should be, curiously enough.

Speaking of curiosity, it's really not a good idea to have it and ADHD at the same time. It can land you in really awkward positions. Luckily, even though the kid seemed to be bad-tempered, it didn't happen now, when I asked, "How old are you, exactly?"

The kid snorted. "I honestly do not know. I am too old to count if I have a hundred hands."

"Uh," was all I had to say. _'A god?'_ was what I thought.

On the other hand, Annabeth finally looked at the kid in the fac – helmet. "Rebirth?" she asked intently.

Oh yeah. Now I remember what Nao was talking about.

"Yes. I am one of Nao's few friends, to help her to guide the souls who wander in."

"But why are you acting like an old man?"

"Obviously because I used to be an old man until a few weeks ago."

"And also obviously," Annabeth pointed out, "you're not one now. At this point you probably stick out more than we do."

"I have no real need to blend in, but if it would humour you…" Tin sort of coughed, and then he held out a hand. "The name's Tin. And I know both o' ya. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase."

"Nice to meet you…" Since I was offered the hand, I shook it, and then the kid/old man slapped a sword into it. "Huh?"

"Tradition," Tin explained. "All newbies get a darn decent weapon to begin their adventure with. Her name is Eiry, and she's at your beck and call, man, if you ever need a prod on fighting or directions."

That was another odd thing to say, but it was explained when the sword told me that she'll try her best.

No, it did not suddenly grow a mouth and say –

Wait a minute.

In front of my eyes, a little girl simply hopped out from my hands like she was the sword all along – and she probably was. The wings are her most obvious characteristic, but there were others – the books she hugged tightly, her pointy ears, the greenish hair, and the dress that was styled similarly to Nao, except the smaller dress's sleeve draped back over the girl's shoulder. And while I was processing all this, she complained to Tin, "Great, now you've given me a mentally handicapped Master!"

"Be nice, gal," the visored kid scolded, and then seemed to think the better of it, because he said to me, "ask the old man to show you to the Healer's."

I scowled at him, though I wasn't sure if the thick front of the helmet would let him see my face. "Well, _excuse_ me. My home had a lack of pixies zooming around and babbling their heads off."

"What?" said pixie cried indignantly. "I'm not a _pixie_, I'm an ego!"

"Yes, you're a right little ego_maniac_."

"Agh!" the girl puffed out her cheeks. "You have no right to say that, you, you…"

This was unfortunately the point Annabeth stepped in. "Seaweed Brain?" she supplied.

"Seaweed Brain!" the pixie yelled triumphantly.

"Annabeth!"

"What?" she shrugged. "You have something to call her, so she should have something to call you."

"But –"

"Hey," Tin interrupted, "spat all you want, but remember, no excessive Frenches and nothing that should be done on a bed here."

My face and, somewhat to my delight, Annabeth's face both coloured up.

Tin offered me a sheath, which I took, but then he had to add: "You know which end goes in, right?"

I scowled at him, pointedly snapping the sword into the cover, albeit harder than was absolutely necessary. Eiry didn't disappear, unfortunately.

"Good to know. And one more thing: usually I have the newbs kill raccoons with Eiry to get them used to brawling –" Annabeth looked like she was about to call the Humane Society, and then she must have remembered where she was, because she muttered something not nice – "I've ears, Annabeth. Anyways, that's just insulting both of yo' prowess, so you need ta challenge something wicked. You can go right afta' heading down this trail, meet the Light Gargoyles, and stuff five of them in the dust."

* * *

><p>Light Gargoyles were named aptly. The first things I noticed are the machetes, and then from then the imagine of a gargoyle fit in: hunched over back, long neck, rock-hard looking skin, three fingers and three toes, and the large, imposing wings that made it seem three times bigger than it actually was. One Light Gargoyle growled at me, and I could see its long, yellow teeth just waiting to be brushed. Er, tear me apart.<p>

Then I learned that the Light Gargoyles are pitifully overrated, when in the next five seconds the same dentally challenged monster was bleeding to death from a weak point on its shoulder and the others were backing away. One got brave and charged, but Annabeth simply rolled her eyes, stepped in between, parried the wild swing and just stuck her knife in its eye.

It really went downhill for the Fomors (if they really were Fomors – Eiry said so, but I'm not fully committed to trusting her yet). The last three decided to gang up together on us, which was a bad move. Reason one: my skin's invincible. Somehow Annabeth can make me reel, but in battle, nothing's going to stand in my way, period. Reason two: my reaction time. Honestly, at how fast these things move when one tries to hit me chances are I already gut it three times over. And reason three? Actually, I forget that one, but I didn't need a third reason by the time all three of them had gaping holes in the various fleshy parts of their body.

The last one wasn't my kill, though; it was Annabeth's, who had slit the heart of that gargoyle from behind. As the creature croaked one last time, slumped over, and vanished in a puff of dark smoke, she glanced down at her knife. "How are we able to kill these creatures?"

I blinked. "Huh?" I asked, sounding real smart.

"Our weapons are Celestial bronze, Percy. It shouldn't be able to affect animals."

That was a thought that didn't occur to me before.

"Prolly because they're Fomors," Tin yawned behind me, strutting down to us lazily. "The way I see it, your weapons only affect the magic side of your world. Fomors control these creatures through magic, so it works on everything in Uladh.

I frowned, but Annabeth beat me to the question. "How do you know so much about our world?" she suspiciously asked.

"Nao."

"Figures," my girlfriend muttered darkly.

"How much do you know?" I asked.

"More than I care for, and more than I needed. Oh, and here." Tin quickly abused my personal bubble, popped open my pack and pushed something into it, and then closed the pocket.

I bit back my complaints, and I didn't bother looking at what he gave me. Instead I said, "That doesn't answer the question."

"It doesn't need to." Here Tin waved his hand.

"But –" I started to say, though by that time both Tin and the path below me had disappeared, somehow dumping us inside a – well, what do you know? – a graveyard. "Okay, that's just creepy. Why did he dump us to a place where _zombies_ could be?"

"Percy, there's no such thing as a zombie."

"We've just seen _Gargoyles_, Annabeth."

"Yes, but those are mythological creatures. Zombies, on the other hand, are reanimated corpses, which fits in a different category and thus, is not possible."

"I still say they exist," I muttered.

The daughter of Athena rolled her eyes. "In another world, maybe."

Then something went _skit_.

That made me jump a little more than I'd admit, but I brandished Riptide bravely. Annabeth must've seen my startled reaction because she muttered "Why him, again?" before glancing over at the sound.

_Skit_, _skit_, _skit_...

Almost funnily, I was growing less scared with each second. It's not that I thought it was any less dangerous, or any less frightening-looking, but I suddenly had the feeling that Annabeth should be more scared than I, like I knew what I was coming. I didn't, though, and while I tried to figure it out…

The thing that was making the sound popped into view from behind a grave marker.

Predictably, Annabeth screamed louder than the maximum volume of Goode High School's PA system. And for those who haven't been there that day when the principal spilled coffee on it and glitched the system, that's pretty darn loud.

* * *

><p>Luckily enough, the old guy in a greenish vest whose house was the closest to the graveyard, just down the hill, was someone who was able and willing to help. He apparently heard the screams, and it also helped that when he asked what was wrong, I proudly told him, "Arachnophobia." (It was the longest word I knew that I could pronounce properly.)<p>

He led us, with me practically carrying Annabeth, into his house, where there were a couple of chairs and a table inside. The whole house was actually made of wood – the walls, the ceiling, the railings, the steps, and I think that's even a completely wooden faucet and sink I'm seeing. It's official – we're not in Kansas, camp, or Olympus' dance floor anymore.

"There's not much I can do for phobias," he told us as I set Annabeth, who was mumbling something rapidly, into a chair, "but I know something that might calm her." He started rummaging around his cupboard and pulled out – guess what? – some tea bags, and some cups. What's with it with old men and their obsession with tea?

"How did those spiders get that big?" I asked. I could barely crush its body with my foot, and it was disgusting besides, so I had to resort to cutting it in half, which left nasty stuff on my blade. So I used Eiry to cut down the rest of the ones that swarmed us. She was really not happy.

The man chuckled. "So you have only recently arrived here?" He poured hot water into the cup from a beaker above his fireplace and plopped the tea bags into them, starting to swirl each cup. "Don't worry, they've always been that big. In fact, many are bigger. If you go to the end of Alby dungeon, for instance, you'll meet a giant red spider that is several times your size."

Annabeth whimpered. The old man quickly gave her a cup and she drank deeply, probably scalding her tongue and probably not caring. She sighed, and she didn't look as pale as she was.

The old man finally introduced himself. "I am Chief Duncan, and welcome to the small town of Tir Chonaill. My sincerest apologies for the unpleasant memories on your first visit here."

"It's okay…I guess." It only struck me then how normal(ish) our conversation was. Just two kids and an old man. Usually, in one of my other quests it'll be two or three kids, probably one a satyr, listening to the monologues of a monster that happened to not want to eat us yet or a god in disguise. Actually, in the case of Nao, I guess she wasn't exactly in disguise.

Speaking of which… "Nao told us to give you a letter, it's –"

"With me," Annabeth mumbled, sliding over the letter that Nao had given us.

The Chief took it and quickly opened it with a dagger that I hadn't even seen lying on the table, taking out and opening the letter fluidly. He studied the contents for a moment, then smiled. "Annabeth Chase and Percy Jackson," he said.

"Huh?"

"Those are good names. Be proud of them." He folded the letter back up and put it into his pocket again, and then sat heavily on another unoccupied chair. "What did you think of Nao?"

Cripes. The Fates really love toying with me today. I could already feel Annabeth glaring at the side of my face, tightening her grip on her knife. I think she was readying her terrible instruments of tortu – er, art supplies again. And of course, predictably, her next words were:

"She's a kind, thoughtful women. She acts really mature most of the time, even though she can get all girly over the smallest things. But I think the things she's excited over are also things that show she cares for other people, and that's what I like about her."

…Okay, that was _not_ what I was expecting. I looked almost incredulously at Annabeth, who was smiling. I mean, _actually_ smiling! What happened to jealousy? Or was that my imagination?

The Chief laughed. "Truly? _I _knew her best as a tiny, fiery and impish little ball of mischief. When she went off adventuring many were glad she was no longer around to plant fish in people's beds."

"Huh?"

"Everyone still loved her, of course," Duncan continued reminiscently. "Malcolm and Caitin especially used to spend time with her, teaching each other how to weave and tailor. Unfortunately, that's also the reason I used to consistently wake up with braided hair."

"What?"

"When they grew up faster than she did she grew fairly upset. Often she had burst out in anger, blaming her friends for leaving her behind height-wise, and that was something so frequent I'm afraid poor Malcolm grew strongly against training in combat with her. Such a shame, he had much potential…"

"…"

"She actually trained in fighting?" Annabeth asked, sounding amused. "She seemed more like a pacifist."

"Oh, yes, she did. In fact, she had been the best in her class. She was especially proficient in archery." Duncan smiled contentedly. "That must have been the proudest day of my life. I pulled some favours and I gave her a magically enchanted bow. It was also the day she truly earned her reputation. She ventured into Dugald Isle and took down a red bear single-handedly. It had served her well until…well…"

The man's face darkened slightly, and with a chill, I suddenly wondered whether he was _really_ talking about Nao. He was talking about this girl like Chiron does to the famous heroes he taught in the past.

All of them happen to be dead.

Is she…? "But…you can still talk to her, can't you?"

Duncan's gaze drifted to me, but I couldn't read his eyes or face. Abruptly, he asked, "I hear your father is a god. What do you think of him?"

I opened my mouth. And I closed it. What _did _I think of him? I wanted to tell myself he was a good father. He helped me when he could. He visited me when he could. He supported me always, especially during the war against Kronos, when the prophecy called me and said, "You might live, you might die. Have a nice day. _Beep, beep, beep_…"

But…I think I was still bitter. I saw him on my last birthday, and the one before that; why not this year?

Why did Zeus have to be such a jerkwad? Why couldn't the job of "god of gods" have come with the earth and the sea, instead of the sky? What good was the sky when it was so empty, anyways? And why did Dad allow Zeus to control him this way?

Why couldn't he just take things into his own hands? Why was it that his job had to interfere with me? Was I just another check on his inflated agenda?

Why did he have to be a god?

Why can't he just give it up for me?

"Do not be angry." That voice snapped me out of my mind, drawing my attention back to the man who was studying me carefully. "I will not lie to you and say I'd rather wish for my granddaughter here, beside me. But I must also accept that there are some things only she can do. There is a…greater good that must be served. I hope you will appreciate this some day."

Appreciate? My face was almost mutinous now. Greater good is overrated. Nao I can maybe understand, but my father spoiled the otherwise perfect day today could have been.

Not that today hasn't been spoiled already by Apollo. I let out a huff that sounded frustrated, and muttered, "I'll think about it."

Duncan finally smiled at that, and when I turned to face her, Annabeth was smirking too. I guess I should be happy she wasn't so mad at me anymore, but I was a little too sullen to care.

"Chief Duncan," Annabeth started, though he automatically asked her to drop the title, "do you have any supplies for us to travel with? We're going to have to go somewhere eventually, so I think we should pack now."

"If it's medical supplies you want, you can go to the Healer's House – the matron there, Dilys, can supply you with first-aid supplies. For food, ask Caitin, down at the square. As for camping equipment, Piaras at the Inn should be able to help. If you need gold, most of these places offer part-time employment, so you shouldn't have much problems building up money." The old man peered at us, then added, "Knowing Nao, however, she's likely to have supplied you something to start with. Those bags are from her, correct?"

"Oh!" I fumbled with the little pouches – and then, after I opened the first pocket I touched, I realized it was the same pocket Tin had stuffed something into while I was questioning him.

Apparently he felt the need to give me a white feather.

I stared at it blankly for a moment, but I did think, _'If Tin gave it to me, it means something.'_ I shrugged and started to stuff it back into the same pocket on the bag I found. Once I actually took a good look at the buttons, though, I realized they weren't buttons, they were more like an anchors for the loop that was attached onto the fold of each pocket.

That was when I realized my gift had two hidden pockets, one that started from the end of the lengthy bag (yup, definitely perfect for a dagger), and a much smaller one positioned on the strap that I never would have made out without a good look. This one seemed to be more for sentimental items, though, as it can hardly fit in anything useful. But I appreciated the gesture all the same.

I stuffed the random feather in that pocket instead just as Annabeth finished taking stock. "Plenty of bandages, some kinda red vial –"

"Health potions. Blue ones are mana potions and yellow ones are stamina. It's a quick restorative, although its taste will make you retch the first time."

"Right. No ambrosia or nectar though. I guess she didn't know where to get that."

Duncan glanced to her in surprise. "No feathers?"

"Feathers? No. Why?"

At the same time: "Feathers? White ones?"

"No. Yellow ones that can fit into the palm of your hand. I wonder if Nao…hmm…"

"Hmm?" I echoed.

Annabeth articulated better, asking, "Why are these feathers important? And what was that about Nao?"

"They're not important, but they can be very convenient." Duncan smiled. "I doubt you'll need them at the moment, however. As for my pondering, that was just because I happened to remember that a villager told me he had lost his ring up north, in the fields of Sidhe Sneatcha. I usually request the first adventurers I meet to help for these kinds of jobs, so I hope I'm not imposing if I ask you to look for it?"

I looked at Annabeth, who shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem. What does the ring look like?"

"The lost one is thick, but still small enough to fit in your hand."

"Let me guess, it's yellow too?"

Duncan laughed. "Yes, it is, Percy. Thus my sudden recall. I do hope both of you brought warm clothes, however. It's only slightly north, but it's much more chilly than one would expect."

"How far?"

"Just keep going on the north path, past the healer's house, past a man named Trefor, and take the left path once it divides into two. You don't want to go into the right path – that leads to Alby dungeon."

Annabeth only shuddered again.

* * *

><p>"He w-wasn't-t k-k-k-kiddin'!" my teeth chattered out.<p>

"Stop being such a baby!" Eiry ordered, that blasted little pixie. "Be a man! March! And let Annabeth borrow your sweater!"

I gave her the best scowl I could in the cold, glaring at that stupidly tiny fairy floating only a few centimeters in front of my face. She gave me back an equally, but definitely not greater, steely glare, chin jutted out and arms folded.

Unfortunately, she had one point right – Annabeth had only come along with a mostly white shirt that said "Euler the Ruler" on the back and "e^(iπ)=-1", which made no sense to me. What did "e" and "i" stand for? And then there was her worn jeans, the ones she didn't look like she minded but secretly told me she wanted the money to replace. They weren't in the best of conditions, having accumulated over a number of years holes ripped out by wear, tear, and Rachel Elizabeth Dare (the last one in the name of repairing a hobo's own pants – don't even ask).

Regardless, I didn't complain as I peeled off my all sea-blue hoodie, giving it to her, and she draped it around herself gratefully. And then she wrinkled her nose.

"Do you wear that every day?"

"H-h-huh? N-no, it w-was a g-g-g-g-g-" I swallowed. "G-gift from Rachel, rememb-b-ber? I t-take g-"

"No, not that! Your T-shirt!"

I looked down at my shirt, and realized it was my standard orange camp T-shirt. "Er…no? I just-t-t hap-p-pened to run out of shirts for the d-day…?"

"Every time I see you you're in that shirt." And then she went and sniffed the inside of my sweater.

"I d-d-doesn't-t smell!"

"Yes you do!" That was Eiry. "Do you realize how _fishy_ you are?" And then she promptly fell on the ground laughing at her own _wonderful_ hilarity, paying me no heed as both Annabeth and I stepped over her, proceeding deeper into the field.

"I don't-t actually s-s-smell, d-d-do I?"

"Don't worry, it actually smells nice." Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Boys…"

I kept silent this time. I think my face was red enough to knock the chattering out of my teeth. Annabeth didn't seem to notice.

She continued, "Percy, I think we should discuss the prophecy."

"Uuh," I managed to get out, nearly stumbling over the snow as it started to descend into a valley of - I squinted again - little more than more snow, with a snowman some distance away, resting alone in the snow like all of its friends had grown legs and ran away.

"We've already completed the first two lines of the prophecy. '_Stride into the silent stream of souls_' means the Soul Stream where we met Nao, and '_To battle against monster and animal dolls_' must mean the Fomors controlling the local wildlife – we did that too, killing the Gargoyles and the g-gi-gi-"

"Spiders," I supplied, "and they're not giant yet. At least, not in Erinn."

Annabeth shuddered again. "Yes, _that_. I don't think the battle part is over yet, though – we'll likely have to keep doing that during our stay here. Anyways, we got an idea of what to do at the end – '_Glimpse the wing of the evil crown_/_All to help a goddess not your own_' would be referring to the dark god Cichol and the goddess Morrighan, respectively – wait, is this it?"

I stopped and turned to what Annabeth was looking at. It was the snowman. It had a shiny forehead.

Then as I got closer and I realized it was only shiny because there was something gold stuck there.

"It can't be this easy, can it?" I tapped the ring partly jutting out of the snowman's forehead obnoxiously and tried to pull it out. It didn't budge. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Sorry, snowman." I pulled my fist back and punched the snowman in the face.

_Crack_.

"Ow! Owowow!" That stupid thing _hurt_! And I was the one with the invincible knuckles! I shook my hand desperately, trying to ignore the unusual pain, even blowing it a few times before realizing it was already freezing, and Annabeth was watching. I just ignored her and plunged my hand into the snow, sighing contentedly as the pain cooled down. "That stupid thing feels like it's made of ice."

Annabeth looked around the ring carefully. "It _is_ ice, and who knows if it's magical or not. We'll have to try something else."

I finally pulled my hand out of the snow, checking for injuries, of which there was none, luckily. I managed to get angry. Grabbing my sword, pointing it at the iceman, I growled, "Okay, that's it. Gimme the ring. Gimme the ring now. You want a hole in your head? Gimme the ring! I said, gimme the ring or I'll freaking pump metal into your stupid head now! Give it!"

"Percy," Annabeth said dryly, "I don't think the snowman has ears."

"Well, I had to try, didn't I?" And with no less pleasure than I deserved, Riptide descended on the offending iceman, cleaving half of his head straight off, into the air, and into a pine tree. "Crud."

* * *

><p>"Anyways," Annabeth continued after an embarrassing episode of me climbing the tree, managing to retrieve the head, and promptly fifteen feet into the snow below, right in front of her, <em>on top<em> of the ring somehow managing to fall out, get into my mouth and freezing onto my tongue painfully; but anyways, my girlfriend continued: "What I _don't_ know from the prophecy is _how_ to get to that end. The only two lines referring to it was '_Accompanied by two new lazy friends_/_Into the prison's unstable and clever end_', neither which really contributes. I have no idea what the significance of two new friends are. I don't suppose you do?"

"I'm all a blank."

"Exactly what I thought. Maybe they could have been referring to Duncan and Nao, but _somehow_ I don't see them as the lazy type. Besides that, lazy just isn't enough of a description for us to pinpoint exactly who they might be, or whether we met them for sure." Here Annabeth scowled. "Lazy also means if we have to fight, they could get killed."

"We could try to train them," I suggested.

"We could, but it might not be ideal. We use them for what we can, and then ditch them if they're not necessary."

"Aw, come on, Annabeth. That's a little cold-hearted. I can protect whoever it might be. They can die, but I can't, remember?"

"You're not invincible, Seaweed Brain. Get your mind wrapped around that fact." And, moving too quickly for me to really register it, her hand landed on my back, her finger brushing the spot that anchored me to this mortal life.

I have no idea if she meant to do that, but the billions of euphoric jolts that spread from the simple contact of her fingers completely drove that thought from my mind. I gave an involuntary shudder, gasped, grabbed her arm, and abruptly tripped.

"Percy!" Annabeth yelped, but she managed to right herself and didn't fall on top of me. On the other hand, I had a face full of snow that was doing nothing to help regain heat in my body.

"I think," I mumbled slowly, "I know why Achilles didn't wear anything more than sandals. If shoes kept rubbing at his weak point too much I'd love with it too."

For a moment I heard nothing behind me, so I raised my head and glanced behind, and the sight that greeted me was Annabeth, with her face utterly scarlet yet again, looking like she wasn't sure if she was going to faint or slap me. And for once, I was clueless on what she just saw. "Um, Annabeth? You alright?"

She didn't answer, just grabbing my hand and yanking me forward with an exclamation, and dragging me along even as I started walking again. "The gate's just ahead," she muttered, and I glanced ahead to see that she was right; the four-pillared platform that I _think_ was a teleportation device that we had used to get to this barren, frozen Christmas nightmare was only a little ways ahead. I was still thinking over what just happened though, and I've no clue what made Annabeth that beet-faced.

"You," Annabeth started, interrupting my thoughts again, "need major remedial English lessons."

So it was something I said wrong? I tried to think over my words again, though I didn't get anything by the time Annabeth towed me to the magical port. She did pause before entering though, asking, "Where's Eiry?"

"Who knows," I grumbled. "We can leave her. She can probably teleport back to the sword or something."

Annabeth looked unsure, but she turned back to the device and went straight to the centre I followed suit, and there was a moment of dizziness before the world righted us again, greeting us with…not green, butmore white.

And what knocked away my thoughts about what I was starting to realize as a sexual innuendo was a very, _very_ strange sight.

* * *

><p>"How the pawns must be placed in this war of wills," the strange man sighed, sitting calmly on top of the snow like it was a tea party and we were late.<p>

Not that there were actual tea. Or eggnog. Or any kind of refreshments, for that matter, unless putting snow in my mouth would make it a refreshment.

My first thoughts about this guy was that he should drop his subscription to _White Weekly_, burn his collection for good measure, and go for a quick swim in the nearest local ocean of paint. Although he looked young, his hair was absolutely snow white, giving me a hard time distinguishing it from the blizzard that was still blowing behind him. It didn't stop there; his entire face was white, like it was coated in makeup, except for the fact that there is no makeup. Even his eyes were mostly white, the only variation from his whole body being the black rings on his eyeballs that defined where his cornea should be.

And it didn't stop there; he had a long formal suit with cuffs, lots of buttons, a high collar, and ruffles and flounces galore by his cuffs and collar; plain pants, with some kind of insignia on the knees; knee-high boots that I think was made of leather; a random stick hanging on a belt; and most importantly, a longsword that he was currently using to draw something on the snow that I couldn't quite make out; and it was all white. This guy could probably go to sleep on a large sheet of blank paper and no one would ever know he was there until he opened his eyes.

"Wow," Annabeth said quietly, and that's when I noticed the two things I missed, which was the pair of bat-like wings that had fluttered for a moment long enough for my eyes to detect it, and a pair of wicked horns that came from his temples. And of course, both were white too. If he wasn't moving, or making that irritating scratching sound with his sword, I'd bet he was a snow statue.

I said the first thing that came to mind: "Are you an angel, Edward Cullen, or neither?"

The man didn't appear to hear my question, and his eyes were trained onthe sword which was still idly drawing on the snow. "Many kinds of monsters exist in this small world," he said eventually. "Goblins. Wolves. Succubi. Trolls. Humans. Spiders. Ghosts. Lions. Imps. Dragons. And of course, the Gods themselves with their infernal spawns."

"You mean – demigods?" Annabeth asked, looking equally as confused as I probably did.

"Many kinds of monsters," the man muttered, "all fighting for naught but transparent, distractive materials and blank, empty promises. Why must this be so…why must faith of some blind the many…Why must the those above housekeep when their misconceptions descended render the extremities of lambs chained…"

"Erm…" Okay, I think he's lost it. A quick glance at Annabeth's face told me she thought the same. It was probably time to go.

And then what he said next made me stay.

"I smell him. The sea godling. He is cursed by the burden he wears. Pity. He and his sons and daughters shall play a crucial role in the war between the butterfly and the evil."

"A butterfly fighting against evil?" I said incredulously, interrupting what Annabeth was about to say. "Poor butterfly."

Again, the strange horned man ignored this. "Their dynamics are an interesting spectacle. The man is ignorant. The son, even more so. Power cannot bring happiness. Hate does not bring retribution. Terms cannot be given. Anger does not vent."

That sounded too close for my liking.

"Hate?" I growled. "What hate? What are you talking about?"

"I, too. I too have once been blinded by the fury on the deitic, the scorn at the responsible, the rage at the caring. If I was to be littered as which envelope the sweet, to what ends must they favour my wrath? Why give love when I was to search for logic? For far too long the lady of unright has spoiled me. Until that fateful end, the goddess of light has stayed her cruel hand 'til I, too, had taken the peekhole of the superbeings. The sons are always the snobbish, pompous, woeful, ignorant."

"Oh yeah?" I don't know how I've been quiet so long, but now my voice was trembling and overflowing with growing anger. "Okay, lemme give you some advice. If you want three black eyes, keep talking. Your choice."

"Percy," Annabeth said sharply.

"This guy's telling me I'm being a brat!" I shouted.

To my anger, the stupid guy continued. "The son is lost. He cannot see straight."

"You can stop insulting me now," I snarled.

"Empty days pass. The father lays and relays the circle which succeeds the cross. Temper grows –"

"Shut up!"

"Percy," Annabeth warned again.

"– when the sky whispers to him, he is not of import, he is not taller than the white rocks of Atlas –"

My hand grabbed my pen.

"– and at last, the day may find when heaven falls from one, conceited boy."

Riptide exploded into a sword.

Annabeth stepped in front of me. "Percy," she said a little more evenly and calmly, "no need to hit the poor guy. His behind's already as swelled as it is."

I was breathing more hardly than I realized. With her comment, I let out one last huff of air and tried to give her a smile. From her wince I guess it turned out sorta bad. But one way or another, I recapped my trusty sword, pocketed it, and turned back to the man still scratching the snow like it was an itch.

"All right," I said to him coolly. "I'm going to blow up the world because of a choice I make or I don't make. Try again, man. That was so last year."

Annabeth's smile got a little more reassuring, but the horned bimbo behind her only turned his face up to the sky. "No longer here," he said. "I don't smell him anymore."

"Then you need your vet to check your nose," I told the idiot mutt. "_I_'m the son of Poseidon."

He didn't have any response to that. He simply turned back down, yet again, to the patch of snow still being abused by his sword. This time, I tried to take a better look. It took a moment for the shadows to properly convey where the holes were, but I managed to read:

CH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TAR

CH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TAR

CH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TAR

CH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TARPLATCH TAR

"What do you need the latch for?" I asked snidely. "Holding your jumbled thought process together?"

The man winced. Actually winced. It was the first time he had ever acknowledged our presence here. He also tilted head up, looking directly at me. Also another first.

"Like history," he said, "when functions must be fulfilled a name and an avatar must be lotted. It was only this one's thirteen glitch that brought I to the field of Sidhe Sneachta, cursed to writ the title held by the first of the lost warriors."

"Tarp Latch? What kind of a parent names their kids after a list of things no one really uses?"

Again, he didn't have any response to that. He observed me steadily, and I kept glaring back coolly. For a moment, neither of spoke.

Annabeth finally interrupted with a question. "What's the point of antagonizing us? It's not going to do you much good, and I bet we can fight back if we have to. So tell me, what are you after?"

Slowly, the man broke his gaze at me and turned his head to the daughter of Athena, who watched back equally as collected as I. My gaze dropped to the longsword on his hand that was still digging into the snow, determined not to let him surprise us if he actually attacked.

"Many kinds of monsters in the world," he started again, "yet there is one that, even here, unnatural as can be. Induced by the god forsaken by I, it lays dormant in the place that least suspect hold power. The wing of evil must be constructed to mirror its prowess." And the man falls silent once more, prompting Annabeth to make another question.

"The wing of evil. What is it?"

Suddenly the man's image fuzzed, like an image on a TV with really bad reception. It was over in a moment, and then returned in full force, making it look like there were badly misshapen snowmen sitting on the ground in front of us. I stepped back, but I was still watching him.

"The time has come," the man sighed. "One piece of the wing of evil shall be found in the new street. To the south, foolish adventurers." And then the man turned his face to look at me, which was _really_ creepy because there were three pairs of wobbly rings that was looking straight at me. "Oh, and by the way. Welcome to Erinn. Tir Chonaill is the _other_ way."

And then the man blinked out of existence, leaving behind me, Annabeth, a small hill of snow, and a list that would make any camping store happy if everything on it were what the man had wanted to buy for Christmas.

* * *

><p><em><strong>Unfortunately Nao's introduction was almost completely fabricated by me, so I apologize if some of her prose is OOC.<strong>_

_**I don't know when the Forest of Souls were replaced by those Beginner Training boards, but I kept it since it somewhat served a purpose. Whatcha think of my "interpretation" of Tin?**_

_**But yes, light gargoyles do exist in the Forest of Souls, though apparently only after a paid rebirth.**_

_**Apparently after the G13 update Eiry's also gone. But since I like her character so much, I still included her in here.**_

_**I didn't really want to up the rating, but since Percy and Annabeth's bf/gf now, it takes the next level of implicit relationship to affect them, or so I think.**_

**_What do you think about Elatha? He has a lotta Shakespeare influence, more than I like. It's just that, he seems to speak riddle-form to me, and this was my best (though maybe not _the _best) way to get him to do so._**

_**How did I do? Please tell me in a review!**_


	4. Brain Dead Me is Not Funny

**Disclaimer: Percy Jackson and the Olympians belongs to Rick Riordan and Mabinogi belongs to Nexon. I own absolutely nothing in relation to either works, except for the idea to mesh them together.**

_**A/N Go on ahead and assume that the books I've left in here are much more scientifically consistent than the versions in Mabinogi. Except for Lightning Bolt's book – honestly, there's just way too much scientific error in that one to merit redemption of any kind.**_

_**A shout-out to **_**Daanogi**_**'s **_**Helvana**_** series here, see if you can find it. There are also slight references to **_**E.B.O.N.Y.**_** and its **_**Firebird's Nest**_**, and **_**Fairly OddParents**_**.**_

* * *

><p>On the way back to Duncan's house, I had an epiphany:<p>

Tir Chonaill's town square was the weirdest one I've ever seen, even including the town square on the Empire State Building.

For one thing, the appearances changed so much from person to person I was starting to wonder if people had a "random appearance" button that they spammed before arbitrarily going with whatever they had. There seemed to be three basic races here, humans, humanoids with long ears, and giant humanoids. (Each had two genders, of course.) But then there was the wacky assortment of eyes and hair; the colour varied from anything in the tediously teal tones to sinister silver shades to platinum pink pigments.

Then there were also the shape of the various facial parts – for the first time ever, I saw a real life unibrow from a guy whose eyes were scrunched way too tight. Then there was an elf whose thick eyebrows hung over two black eyes, like someone drew them on with a Crayola marker. And this girl had a hairdo that raised two thick strands way above her head, like a perch for birds to sit on and talk about the weather. Some other person had an afro, except it was coloured completely white, like he just picked up a sheep and stuck it on.

"What kind of a person wears _that_?" I heard Annabeth say, and I immediately turned to look.

I noticed that the clothes everyone was adorning were just as varied as their hair colours and ethnicities. The person my girlfriend pointed out was casually wearing a pirate outfit; oddly enough, what was hanging from his waist was not a cutlass of any sort, but some kind of plastic, giant water bottle that somehow looked like a water gun. He seemed to be conversing with a boy no older than ten, who was wearing a knight's armour that must have been custom-made for it to fit his tiny body. There were a couple of people in variously coloured hooded robes, with flame decals rising from the bottom, maybe discussing how their clothes don't really look cool enough for summer. When we drew closer, I saw most of their faces as I walked past, and I realized they all had strange cat masks on. Some other people were wearing sick metallic dragon scales – somewhere out there, I bet naked dragons were freezing to death. Yet more were hanging around in plain clothes, though they didn't have any brands like GAP on them. Several people, like the giant girl with a ridiculous but massive mallet that must've come out of a medieval Toys R' Us, were running around with only weapons…and very little clothes.

I asked Annabeth, "If I did a double take on that, would you slap me?"

"A double take on what?"

"Never mind."

But not even all that scratched the surface of the activities going around. There were the shops; a couple of people milled around what looked like a food store, though more people were taking out money bags rather than food. Some people were hard at work on the spinning wheel, processing balls of cotton into threads, and others were sneaking them off of the workers when they dropped some. A guy sitting in the centre of the square suddenly whipped his item upward – half of it went flying and he shouted, "Darn it!" Looking again at his item, I realized he was taking apart the spine of some animal. Or maybe he was _constructing_ a whip out of bones?

Just at that moment, an arrow whizzed by me, and although I was invulnerable, I ducked belatedly. The arrow buried itself in someone's neck and she collapsed. I was worried she had just died right there, but the arrow must've been a toy or something because she immediately jumped back and, to my surprise, stunned him with a real lightning bolt to his head like she was Goddess Volts.

"I want that," I said in awe to Annabeth.

The arrow guy seemed to be in a big group – one member which was that giant girl I saw earlier – and they chased the magic girl back, sending arrow after arrow at her while she sometimes dodged or was sometimes hit and went down. They stampeded past a guy trying to play music, several missiles only barely missing him when the girl used him as a meat shield. Even as the group of people moved passed him, he kept on playing; apparently, his donation box being filled with sixteen arrows, a few rocks, and a smelly shoe happened every day. When someone came up to him with a dagger though, he immediately swung his guitar, smashing the poor guy straight across the jaw, and giving new meaning to "death metal". Then he went back to practice what I vaguely recognized as a song from a show about orange ninjas.

Then there were the signs boards. Annabeth said it best – "These people look _really_ bored."

One particular elf was lazing on the middle of the square, staring up at the sky with a sign that said "FRed Upgrade/Stone, 500k – nm". A quick look around showed similar signs, like "8Leathers 2k ea" or "FNX 10k/1m" or "LFA cute girlfriend". It was on the last one that I realized "LF" must stand for "Looking For", though the signs starting with F & 8 were a little harder to place.

So once we got past the whole mayhem going on at the town square, we looked back one last time at the multitude of teenagers picking fights, working, trying different clothes, and lying around. And I think I'm not mistaken, when I say:

"This place's society is a little screwed over."

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Three –<strong>

_I Learn How to Forge Counterfeit Bolts_

* * *

><p>"Knock knock?" I called out as we moved up the hill leading back to Duncan's house, to the east of the town square.<p>

The elder had been sitting outside on a rocking chair, writing something on a clip board, but when he looked up as I called, he smiled and put it away. "Percy, Annabeth," he greeted. "I trust you've been successful?"

Annabeth gave him the earring, and he checked it over. "Excellent, this looks like the right one. Thank you both so much."

"No problem," I grumbled. "Just had to walk through fields and fields of snow, beat up a snowman, and talk to a lunatic who wanted to go camping in the snow. Does that happen to everyone?"

Duncan blinked. He looked bemused. "No, not necessarily. Some people decide to go straight to Emain Macha." He leaned a little closer, making the wooden construct under him yawn out a _creak_. "But who did you say have met? Someone who was attacking from the snow?"

Annabeth said, "_Camping_ in the snow. What does that have to with attacking?"

"You'll be surprised. But, ah, I would like to hear the details. This seems somewhat unusual…"

We told him about the strange no-colour man, from our initial reactions to the puzzling comments he made to his surprising disappearance.

"This is somewhat strange," Duncan admitted, "and I've heard some unusual things myself, including the so-called Milletian ghosting tricks and eyewitness accounts of adventurers scaling walls by sitting down."

"How does that work?"

"As far as I can tell, a prankster laid a transport spell that activates whenever someone's behind touches it. Though there were side effects, including getting the posterior glued to the transit spell. Unfortunately, Edern, one of Erinn's best blacksmiths, seems especially prone…ah, excuse me. I seem to have gone off topic. In any case, here is your reward." Duncan reached underneath the chair and handed me a bundle of leaves. I peeled the top layers away, revealing blue underneath it. "Those are Mana Herbs. Generally I would have recommended visiting our resident brown bear, who also occupies the same northern part of Sidhe Sneachta you've come from…"

"Brown bear?" Annabeth asked, while I tucked the mana herbs away in my new pouch.

"A popular tourist icon, it seems. We don't know if he's dangerous, but that doesn't stop people from trying to visit." Duncan shook his head almost amusedly, while Annabeth and I exchanged wary looks. "However, recent reports indicate he's no longer there, so the original purpose of the Mana Herbs is now redundant. But who knows – you might find a use for them yet. Perhaps Dilys can teach you to brew potions. Mana potions are always in heavy demand for mages."

_Mages_? I thought. And suddenly I remembered Goddess Volts. "Wait, you mean – there's wizards and witches here? Like, magic? People can just learn how to throw lightning around?"

"Why yes, actually. Tir Chonaill School is one of the best places for a beginner to start learning magic. Just follow the west path from the square, and it'll wind down the hill; at the bottom of the hill is the school. As a business, however, Lassar _will_ have to charge a fee of between four thousand and seven thousand gold, but I can assure you that the results are very much worth the price."

Now, I might not be the best at math, but I'm pretty sure four thousand gold is a lot. Back in New York, I'd bet that a bag filled with that much could buy me a personal swimming pool. I bet Annabeth would use it to buy, like, a hundred books. So I kinda doubted Nao had the resources to give us that much.

But, it was something I wanted to check anyways. "Thanks Duncan. I'll think about it."

* * *

><p>Tir Chonaill School looked like a martial arts centre from the outside. Actually, the Tir Chonaill School also looked like an old-fashioned ornamentation, not actually suitable for practical purposes. It had a playground's size worth of wooden pillars sticking out, and it looked like the actual building only had enough space to accommodate a school of thirty trouts. The back had a garden consisting of nothing but bushes, bushes, and a not-very-high beanstalk that Jack watered <em>very <em>conservatively.

As I walked downhill, past what appeared to be a church, I noticed that the building wasn't just one building; it was _two_ buildings, with a roof that shaded a path between the two rooms. I changed my mind; those two rooms look only about big enough to host a school of twenty piranhas, each.

The school was surrounded by a wooden fence, with a gap directly east of the "training" field. Over it was an arch with an open book symbol over the top, which didn't seem appropriate because the next thing I saw was a black-haired, half-naked man slipping in sweat, pounding away at the training dummy in front of him with a wooden stick.

Lamely, I called, "Is this the Tir Chonaill School?"

The guy nodded, his attention not wavering from his deadly nemesis.

"Are you Lassar?"

The guy's weapon slipped out of his grasp and was sent flying. If it was a real sword it would've decapitated an inattentive wood-dummy a few metres to the left. If it was a real battle the straw-clad pillar would have had the perfect chance for a headshot. Of course, if it was a real battle the man wouldn't've promptly collapsed on the ground, laughing. "WAHAHAHAHA! ME? LASSAR? AHAHA – !"

"No need to get worked up over it," I muttered.

"Lassar is a girl's name," Annabeth said somewhat sheepishly.

"Why would a girl be named after a cowboy?"

Annabeth blinked…and then, rolling her eyes, she said, "That's _lasso_ you're thinking about."

By this point the man finally sputtered out the last of his mirth. He got up, looked at me, and chortled again. "New visitors!" he boomed. "Welcome to Tir Chonaill! I am Ranald, and I teach swordsmanship at this school! Purchase your first lesson today and I will teach you the secret of obtaining the Windmill skill!"

The most distinguishable thing about him was easily his face, in all its sloppy and messy glory. He looked like hadn't learned to shave properly as a teenager, and his hair was thick and slightly messed up, covering one of his eyes. His teeth were yellow, and from the thick odour of alcohol that managed to reach my face I thought he could use several hundred litres of mouthwash.

Annabeth said, "Lassar is the magic teacher, right? Where is she?"

"Yes, she is my co-worker," Ranald said with a grin, "and she usually resides inside our classrooms, whether for experiments or lectures. On the other hand, she is not here at the moment; last I heard, she had to attend a mages' conference taking place in Emain Macha, which is to the west of the new street, else known as Dunbarton. To the south, and then west – a long way to travel, indeed!"

New street? Where had I heard that before?

"But her classes are not for those without the pretty penny! I am not joking when I say her initial tuition fees cost ten times more than mine. And I firmly believe that the body's best stimulus is from motion and hard work, not lazing on one's bum and reading picture books!"

Which was probably not the best comment to direct at a daughter of Athena. She immediately looked insulted, and she snapped back with some barb, "Books are far more useful than waving a stick around smacking straw, you know! Your body can't even make those motions without a brain, and training the brain is infinitely superior to bloating your body!"

"Ha-ha, what a feisty girl you are," Ranald commented. He didn't look insulted, though he crossed his arms, somewhat showing off his exaggerated pectorals. "But I must recommend that you put that energy into the force behind a sword, young girl. It'd be such a shame otherwise, wasting your bounding energy."

"Wasting energy? All I see here you, your sticks, and your stinking sweat. If anything's wasting energy, it's you." Oh, she was _sooo_ ticked off now.

Though Ranald couldn't seem to tell. "Why, just the other day, the kids flocked to my superior training centre simply because the books were so boring! See over there?" He pointed to some benches by the side of the "school", and littered around it was three books. "They teach you everything you need to know about basic magic! Or so they claim. Alas, it has become clear they are nothing more than a scam, designed to steal the allowance out of unknowing children and play their minds for fools with shenaniganal words!"

"There's no need to insult them just because you've never read a dictionary in your life!" my girlfriend barked.

"To be fair, I haven't, either," I murmured.

Ranald now frowned. "Now listen here, miss. Melee will yield far better return for your efforts. There are stories of rich children who spent their entire fortunes trying to control mana, and squandered their status lives in vain. I can attest to you that there are people who walked by these books and never even bothered to pick them up – in fact, they can't pick them up." The man chuckled as if he made a funny joke.

Now, I haven't really seen Annabeth _mad_ mad. And I've never really seen a time when she never had the last word, either. But she was definitely incensed now. "Oh?" she said softly.

And then she walked over to the books, snatched all three up, and glared at Ranald with enough venom to suck his eyes away. "Then let's have a little bet. I will read these 'picture books', as you call them, and come back tomorrow. Then, I will challenge you to a match – any kind of fighting is fine. If you win, I'll admit you were right and enrol into all of your courses, for twice their fee." She grinned nastily. "If I win, you have to fulfill my next request. Look forward to it."

And then she stormed off, as only Annabeth could. As she exited her elbow banged against the side of the gate that stood between the fences, and a few seconds after she turned right and headed for the bridge the whole gate fell over backwards, crashing through a straw dummy and making it look like it had a fashion disaster skirt.

"Well, that wasn't supposed to happen," Ranald muttered.

"Which one? The gate or Annabeth?"

"Both." He rolled his eyes. "Young girls these days. Not one for respecting the opposite sex any more than it takes to get a date."

"Er…sure. And she's not exactly trying to date you, she's probably going to try to kill you tomorrow."

Ranald laughed. He probably didn't believe me.

Ah, ignorance must be bliss.

"Good luck tomorrow, you'll need it." And then I ran out of the school, skipping over its fence, and chasing the retreating figure of Annebeth entering a forest just to beyond the bridge.

* * *

><p>"This doesn't make sense," I moaned. "It's school all over again."<p>

"Mm-hm."

"Annabeth, you _know_ how much I hate school."

"Mm-hm."

"Please don't just agree with everything I say. I mean, that's like saying school is hopeless for me…"

"Mm-hm."

I sighed, and dropped the book about lightning I was holding. "This is useless. How do we know we can even use these magic? We're from a completely different world! …I think."

"Mh-hm," Annabeth muttered again, still absorbed in her two own books, and I sighed exasperatedly. But then she continued, "Yeah, I think this is a different world, but we should still be able to use this. Whatever laws govern a different –" Annabeth frowned – "a different universe, I guess, still has to apply to us."

"Says who?"

"Well, okay, here's a thought experiment. If there was a universe where there was no such thing as gravity, and then suddenly people from that world popped into our Earth, do you think they'll stay afloat or come crashing down?"

I tried to imagine that for a moment. A couple of aliens, green-skinned and with tentacles, maybe a separate chamber for a brain, walking on air…nope. "That does sound ridiculous," I admitted.

"It should be the same thing here. Whether or not we had magic back home, when we arrived in this _universe_ –" Annabeth still stretched the word like she didn't quite believe it – "then the law of Marginal Mana Decrease and the law of Marginal Damage Increase should both apply to us as well – and with that, implicitly, should mean we have also attained Mana simply by entering here."

"I got lost," I admitted.

"You could have tried to listen," Annabeth told me reproachfully. "Otherwise you'll never get to the cool stuff like this."

I was about to ask what part of this was cool when Annabeth offhandedly raised a finger. Just above it, the air suddenly became fuzzy – and instantly, a small piece of ice formed.

"What –?"

"Icebolt," Annabeth said quietly, though it looked like she was talking more to herself. She raised all five of her fingers, and a few seconds later, four more shards of ice came into existence. She aimed at a tree – and suddenly, the five Icebolts came alive, dancing like little flies as they consecutively skewered the trunk _thud_ by _thud_ by _thud_.

"How…the…"

"It's pretty lucky," Annabeth said, "that the energy laws governing this place seems to be more or less identical to where _we_ come from – even Mana is similar to how the magicks that the Hecate brand items are powered, and how demigods with extra powers work their gifts. Most of what's needed here is clarity and will behind thought. The rest is knowing what steps to take – in this case, of course, I gather the water vapour floating around and lower its temperature."

Now, there was _no_ way that I was going to be outdone by Annabeth in anything relating to water. I gave a snort, and within half a second, a blob of water, bigger than my torso, was floating in front of me.

Except… "It's not…freezing," I said stupidly.

"The bigger it is, the more energy you need to lower the entire body's temperature," Annabeth said offhandedly, and then she coughed and I thought I caught an "Obviously" in it. "That's why I used smaller ice shards."

I scowled. Delicate work was _not_ my forte, and what was the point of having these powers if you can't do anything _big_ with it? "Okay, fine, what about this Lightningbolt, then? How would I work this out?"

"Well, lightning is basically the movement of electrons from one supersaturated location to another, less concentrated, one. You'll have to pull the electrons, and only the electrons, from one location, and then let go of it. The Lightningbolt should naturally occur then."

"Okay. Pull the eletorns. Pull the eletorns." Experimentally, I reached out with my hand, grabbed, and then pulled the air. And then I did it again. "Nope, not happening."

"Think of it like a…like a slingshot. The harder you pull, the more resistance you should feel. That should tell you whether you're doing it right or not."

I tried to use that feeling. Reach, grab, pull against resistance. Reach, grab, pull against resistance. I grimaced, then closed my eyes. Reach, grab, pull against – AHA! "I've got something!" I said excitedly.

"Yup, my T-shirt."

I blushed. "Oh. I guess I'll stop with the pulling now." I heaved another breath. Reach, grab, pull…

"Wait." I let go. "I think I've got it this time. I'm feeling something." Reach, grab, pull, meet resistance, pull harder, increase resistance… "I've got something." Pull harder…

"Your hand's pulling again, but it's not holding anything this time," Annabeth commented.

"So…is this really it?" I pulled even harder – and then let go.

_BOOM!_

A moment later I really, _really_ careful peeked open one eye. Annabeth was fine, to my relief, but she was holding some kind of charred remains. Three of them, in fact.

"Another book hater, huh?" she said emotionlessly.

Ah, shoot.

And then I was saved by an owl.

Literally. As preoccupied as I was, I didn't sense the owl coming until it landed on my head and dropped a letter on my face that I managed to catch. The owl hooted but didn't leave my head, thus temporarily sparing it from the smacking I swear Annabeth was about to commit.

"Good owl," I said weakly.

Annabeth huffed, and then tore the letter from my hands. "Someone had better be dying," she muttered mutinously. "Someone better be attacked by bandits right now, because I need to find someone I can –"

Luckily I didn't hear any details of what exactly she was about to do with said someone, because she stopped and absorbed the letter more intently. After a moment, she wordlessly handed it back to me, and I realized that the handwriting was flowery and the paper was all shiny. Cautiously, I read:

_Hiya dearie adventurers!_

_My name is Tracy, and I'm in a little bit of a pickle right now. I don't have any big, strong boys around to help me, but I need to finish my chores quickly. I was so hoping you sweethearts can drop by my log house in the middle of Dugald Forest? Come quickly and I'll have something ex-tra-special for you!_

_Hearts,_

_Tracy._

_P.S. It's so lonely here, please come as soon as possible!_

I swallowed. Five years ago, maybe, I would have loved all this female attention; now, I had a girlfriend who could probably take my head if she tried. I gingerly lifted my head, and to my horror, I realized the owl had already left. I sighed, and – internally wincing – turned to face Annabeth.

"Should we get going, then?" she said.

"Go – huh?"

"To this Tracy." She gestured at the letter.

"You're not jealous again?" I blurted, and immediately blushed.

She looked at me somewhat exasperatedly. "Well, look who's got a bloated head." And then she grinned, which mystified me even more. "Race you to the logging camp."

She set off at a light jog, making me stare after her. I just shook my head slowly. "Girls," I said wonderingly. And then I followed.

* * *

><p>The logging camp was dim, and somewhat musty smelling. There were lots of benches, tables, and chopped roots of trees with axes stuck in their middle. Surprisingly, the most noise I could hear was crickets – or <em>some<em> kind of insects – chirping. There was some kind of emptiness here, for some reason – oh, well, obviously it was the lack of humans. There weren't any kind of activity that I could associate with a productive forestry encampment – did everyone leave for the afternoon? I had to wonder.

"Percy, Tracy's over here!" Annabeth's voice called.

Wow, that was quick. I glanced around, and through the clearing I found a really thick tree – the biggest around I reckon. Annabeth and her black T-shirt was clearly visible. I started up a run.

And then I stopped.

No _way_ that was Tracy. The person that a considerably more cheerful Annabeth was standing by was clearly a lumberjack. His tanned skin showed weeks – years, maybe – of standing underneath the sun, shouting orders through his cracked lips above his shaggy brown beard. He had on a cap that he adjusted when he saw me, and then he grinned. "Welcome to Dugald Aisle's logging camp, adventurers!" he guffawed. It looked like he was…trying to hold back a laugh.

Oh dear. I could tell what was coming.

"Received my letter, have ya? Great, c'mon and lend a hand this helpless boy!"

"You're a guy."

"Tracy" swung his head back and laughed. "Gwahaha! Ya, that's right! Not too disappointed, are ya, m'pretty boy?"

I shuddered. "_Don't_ call me that. Please."

"Do you do this all the time?" Annabeth asked amusedly, as if the idea of a male Sasquatch masquerading as Princess Peach didn't crank up her disgust scale up to ten. I shuddered again.

"Aye! I've built an art of this, if I might say so myself. Borrowed my wife's perfume a few, practiced handwriting, and I always keep a stack of Eluned's Royal Parchment with me. That's what them high-class ladies use, they do." Tracy gave a wicked grin. "In fact, I also buy my own lipstick! Those vendors always let me when I say them's for my wife, and little do they know I smear them over my grizzly face and smooch it myself onto my hearty appeals! Gwahahah!"

Annabeth laughed along with him, though I was still not amused. "Isn't there some kind of law against impersonation? This _has_ to be creepy enough for that."

"Those kinds of laws are only for impersonating people in power," Annabeth corrected me.

At the same time: "I ain't impersonating anyone but myself! Ya's own fault ya didn't look close enough. Know what my men said the first time they saw me? They said I was breathing too much in my kissy-kissy! Said they could smell my breath clear across camp!"

And yet again, Tracy threw back his head and let out bone-trembling laughter, while I pinched the corner of the letter in the envelope and gingerly held it up. To my horror, now that I smelled it, behind the transparent perfume it absolutely _reeked_ of alcohol, chicken, cigar, and rotten wood. What the rotten wood was doing in his mouth to leave a stink with a kiss, I didn't want to know, and I just let go of the letter on the spot, though Annabeth deftly snatched it out of the air.

"Don't be rude," she chided with a grin, actually opting to stuff it inside her new pouch.

I only rolled my eyes. "Well, since I've just had my faith in Eluned's Royal Parchment heavily abused, see you later Tracy."

"Whoa, hold it m'pretty!"

"_Don't_ call me that!"

"No offense boy. But ain't ya still gonna help?"

I scowled. "With what? We just got through your prank of the day, and unlike Annabeth I'm not going to help you put on lipstick and make out with alcohol-stinking letters."

"I'm insulted you think I ever intended to," Annabeth said with a grin.

"And I'll never ask you to," Tracy said. "That right belongs to your ladyship truly. Gwahaha!"

My throat itched. I tried to hold back a barf, but if he plays like that one more time…

"But listen well. My voice may be fake, but my requests are always genuine. Help doesn't come often to these parts anymore. Those two –" and here he gestured to the left, towards two pre-teens dressed in overalls, one with long blond hair and one with short black hair, talking casually with each other – "are the only hired hands with me at the moment, with no more expected for a few months – years, maybe. So any adventurer wander into these parts, I commission right away. Have a reputation to maintain, see?"

"A reputation of stealing a woman's perfume?"

"Borrowing. And no, to maintain quality, reliability, and workplace safety."

"By stealing perfume."

Tracy bared a ferocious grin. "Ya. I suppose I am. But see this, boy – why do you think I need to do that in the first place? Simple." Tracy spat out a loogie that just missed my foot. I stepped back anyways. "Young people today are sexists. When a girl cries for help, they give help. In fact, they even expect the girl to need help. And they do it without a second thought."

The lumber barked out a shorter laugh. "But males? When they ask for help, all they get are pitiful looks. 'You're a man,' they say. 'Don't you have any pride? Aren't you capable? Why would you need help, when you can help yourself?' Ha! Those lazy bums. Their chivalry is an act to get the pretties, and whenever it doesn't suit them, they discard it! Ya, I'm a man. Ya, I'm capable, and ya, I'm darn proud. But they expect too much out of _me_ if they think I'm Shadow Hero enough to take care of every darn thing. Males ain't any more superhuman than females, ya hear?"

I don't know what my face's expression was at the moment, but Tracy must've taken it as a challenge. "Think I'm a wuss, do ya, mouthing off to brats like ya? Then let me ask ya something – would your father always be there for ya?"

My breath hitched. From the corners of my eyes, Annabeth seemed to look startled. But Tracy rolled on. "Ya, ya's pwuh wittle daddy's had a rough time. He's hide to wipe ya's behind for years, teach ya how things work, spoon food into ya's mouth when ya's mommy couldn't, and ya, as the man, he had to teach ya how to be one, too. But do ya really expect him to correct ya all the time? Do ya expect him to follow ya every step ya make, and hope that when ya stumble or when ya succeed he'll come out of the shadows to scold or congratulate ya?"

Tracy…wasn't _really_ talking about my father. Not Poseidon, anyways. Luckily for him, my godly father never had to spoon food into my mouth, or to teach me how to wipe my behind. I think.

But…

"Face it, boy. Even ya's dear father's not right all the time. Even he makes mistakes. And even if he didn't he's not gonna live forever. And on the off chance he did kill eternity, then I hope to lord Lymilark that he ain't got any more sons as selfish as ya. Young brats these days are always overworking their parents, and being tired forever ain't gonna do anything for his complexion.

"People say sexism is downgrading females. I say nay! It's supergrading males."

I grunted. "Yeah, yeah. Okay. I see your point." I sighed. "I'm sexist. I expect too much out of males, I might have skipped out on you. And I guess I was about to, too. So I'll help you with whatever request you have."

"That's the spirit!"

I scowled in response. "But you're just as much a sexist, aren't you? You knew exactly what points of a female works best, and you just used them to manipulate other people into coming here!"

"Ah, that ain't sexism. That's just using what advantages I've got!"

I rolled my eyes.

"I don't take lip, boy! And as for your commission, it's to kill one of those pesky Wisps that hang around here. In case you don't know what they are, just go to the west and you'll find these shining balls of light. Crack down on them and I'll give you two the pay."

I was just about to point out I wasn't giving him lip, I was rolling my eyes, when Annabeth said incredulously, "Shining balls of _light_?"

"Aye. Little-little ones, too. Pesky little buggers always zooming around, smacking noses, zapping lightning."

"Zooming around and smacking noses aren't that much trouble," I pointed out. "I guess the lightning makes for a lot of bad hair days, though."

"Bad hair days ain't the most of it, boy! Those things hafta go!" And with that one last bellow, Tracy picked up his hammer, raised it, and swung it into the chopping block so hard the axe cut the stump in two, right down to the ground. "Ah, shikes."

* * *

><p>It wasn't until I've actually seen this Wisp that I realized Tracy wasn't talking spinach.<p>

Annabeth saw it first, and then pointed me to its direction. Sure enough, it was a little ball of light randomly floating in the air, bigger than a firefly should be, but definitely no bigger than my hand.

"And that's dangerous because…?" I muttered.

As if I had jinxed it, a raccoon suddenly poked its head out of the bushes. Instantly there was a ridiculously loud humming noise, which was immediately followed by a giant _BOOM!_, which was followed up a heartbeat later by the raccoon flying through the air and landing right next to Annabeth. It was dead, I could tell that much; the crispy fried smell was reminiscent of MacDonald's. I was willing to bet that the raccoon was not loving it.

Wisely, Annabeth stepped away.

Less smartly, I said, "Well, he's not the only guy in the neighbourhood who's spreading crispy love," and tried the same thing I did on the tree earlier – I concentrated on _pulling_, and again, the air gave way with a tingly sensation in my fist. I aimed at the little blob of yellow a few yards away.

Except, at that point the creature went ping-pong crazy. I saw it coming, but with me concentrating on magic I couldn't react before it smacked into my forehead. It didn't hurt, but it was enough for me to go "Hey!" – and then realize that the darned little bouncy ball was charging up its round of Lightning Bolts that's _definitely_ going to hurt!

And then it got slammed back by a condensed Fire Bolt. "Maybe," Annabeth calmly said, "you could have realized that, if it can use Lightning Bolt itself, it will know when you're trying to use it, too."

"In hindsight, maybe," I admitted with a grimace. I hefted my pen out and uncapped it – Riptide's glowing bronze metal slid into existence smoothly. "Time to play tennis."

I was almost ashamed to admit how easy it was after that. Whenever it dove at me again, I absorbed and countersmacked the blob. Whenever it warily tried to circle me, I brought my sword down on it fiercely and faster than it could move. Whenever it stayed still in place, Annabeth hit it with a prepared Fire Bolt. It was annoyingly durable, but still, in no time at all it was down, out, and – with a _poof_ – nonexistent.

"Easy," I scoffed.

Annabeth had this satisfied look on her face, just like – well, just like the times when she solved difficult equations or when she defeated a tricky monster or when she finally managed to make that Lego replica of Athena that didn't fall and crash into pieces. "Yes, it was. These magic really comes in handy. I wonder how I can incorporate this into my sword style?"

I just shrugged.

"Hmm. Well, time to get our reward money from Tracy?"

I grimaced now. "Let's not. I don't want to meet that gender bender any more than necessary."

Annabeth laughed. "All right, then. In that case, let's go south."

"South? Why?"

"Don't you remember the man in the snow, Percy? He sounded like the only one who knew what was going on, and he left us some clues. He told us the wing of evil was necessary for something."

"Yes, like the wings of evil will help with anything other than evil."

"Either way, that's the best lead we got. We should head for this new street – Dunbarton."


End file.
